Recently I posted on my Facebook wall that I would be updating my blog post on this website. These are the actual events that followed. They take place between 10:40 and 11:30 am eastern standard time.
10:40am- I post on my Facebook wall: New Blog post coming soon. I attach my websites URL. It’s sunny out. I smile.
10:40am- My cousin Tony writes on my Facebook wall: Proud of you Matt! Keep up the good work & make them laugh. I promise to come see you one day.
What a sweet comment.
10:42am- Alana Johnston writes: I’m ok thanks, I don’t need your blog post in my life.
10:45am- Sebastian VC (not a real name or thing) writes: Hyping an upcoming blog post? Get over yourself Fullofit (Play on my last name Folliott, other word play with my last name includes Fullofshit, Flowertits and Folderbits)
Not so sweet comments. This is where shit takes a turn for the worst. I’m currently eating Raisin Brain from the box.
11am- Alana, myself and Sebastian (fake name) start making fun of each other by means of impersonations. We post videos. Alana impression of me looks a lot like a young Joe Pesci in Goodfellas mixed with a little bit of Rain Man.
11:02am- Phone call from my Dad: he bought a new crock pot.
11:05am- Alana and Sebastian un-friend me. Sebastian actually leaves Facebook entirely and quickly resorts back to MySpace. I quickly resend a friend request to Alana. Sebastian is lost to us.
11:06am- Alana and Sebastian make death treats over the internet directed at myself and Marc Zuckerbeg. I arm myself with a kitchen knife and the right attitude.
11:10am- Police helicopters circle my house and inform me that Alana Johnston is posted somewhere on a roof top with a sniper rifle. She is hunting me. She smells my fear.
11:13am- Phone call from my Dad: he’s decided to make a pot roast. I congratulate him.
11:15am- Alana is arrested without incident, Sebastian re enters the Facebook world using his real name, Gordy.
11:30am- We all make up over Facebook. Alana is using the internet from jail. We make a date for a potluck dinner. My Dad is bringing pot roast.
This blog post is based on actual events.

Matt Folliott's 12 Predictions for 2012

1. Vampire movies continue to remain popular at the box office due to the allowance hike of 2011.
2. Tori Amos will be back with a vengeance
3. Science will cure Cancer, but Cancer strikes back and kills science.
4. Jails fill up. The crime rate keeps falling. No one pays attention cause there's a new X Box at Best Buy.
5. John Cougar Melloncamp changes his name to John Cougar Tiger Balm Panther Cape Mellonclaw.
6. Native people are treated better. Wait... sorry, I meant Naive people.
7. They finally open up that black hole in Sweden everyone's been talking about.
8. Kurt Russell opens up a gym called Russell Muscles.
9. In an interview Oprah is quoted as saying "I'm bigger then Jesus". Everyone agrees and no one is upset in the slightest.
10. Wal-Mart finally starts selling walls!
11. One person wakes up and realizes that everything they know is a croc of shit that's been packaged and sold to them as truth.
12. Hats get a head ;) pants fall behind. (I'm on fire)

Sissy Music - November 24th 2011

Over the past month I've become obsessed with folk music a.k.a. what your parents listen to while they prance around the living room high on white wine. I can't help it, you know? The catchy guitar riffs, the mellon collie vocals and sweet harmonies and of course the feeling that I should be in cabin right now ice fishing, while I wear the pelt of an animal I just killed.

What I'm trying to say is that it's the type of music that makes you want to grow a beard and weave clothing from animal sinew. I mean I'm just not use to it! I love it, but I'm not use to it! I grew up on Hip Hop. Ya! That rap crap. You know what I'm saying dog. If you really wanna party with me, put all your hands were my eyes can see, shimmy shimmy yah shimmy ya shimmy yo! You know that music that your parents hated and contributed to your heavy pot use and lack of pants that fit your waist.

I mean maybe this is why I'm so stunned I like folk music. Walk with me. One minute I'm listening to the Wilderness of Manitoba (great band!) pouring their soul out over the feeling that comes with the changing of the sessions and the next I'm listening to Killah Priest (awesome underrated Hip Hop artist) describe the anatomy of a bullet. That's like two corners of the world my friend. My musical taste has the ability to quantum leap and that scares me. What happen to the days I could say Hip Hop and Punk music are the best, the rest can go fuck a duck. Does liking folk music mean I'm getting older?

Whatever it is, I can't help it. I've been getting folked every night for hours and hours. Please don't tell my friends.

Speedom - September 20th 2011

So i like to bike. Who doesn't? I'll tell ya who. Fatties and professional chair surfers (you know who you are) . Biking is the ultimate experiment in speedom (speed + freedom = speedom) it's just you, a 10 bound frame with wheels and the open road. Well a semi-open road depending on were you dwell. Biking is great exercise (did you hear that fatties) and is wonderful for our friend mother nature. But then something happens to you on one of your many joyous biking excursions. A dick head named Daniel who drank to many Motts Clamato Caesars last night at some poorly named dance party and has a rager of a hangover but still feels the need to drive his dads 1991 Mercedes Benz downtown on a Sunday, opens his door into traffic without looking while you cruise by at a good 20km's and BOOOOOOOMM!! you've been car doored by a college student who just wanted an affordable breakfast in Kensington Market. Now you have a fractured wrist and the fear of god has been put into you when it comes to that beautiful bike you use to worship. So what do you do? I'll tell ya. You get back on that horse bike! You don't let some well to do daddies boy ass hole college student ruin your speedom, you take back your speedom and shove it right down his girly drink lovin throat. Also you purchase a helmet, bike bell and lights and wear reflective clothing at night as to prevent this dooring from ever happening again to you and your speedom loving ways! So now your back on a bike. How does it feel? It's satisfying isn't it? Like making the perfect vegan chocolate chips cookies (that shit is hard to do, believe me!) Your not scared of car doors anymore, and whenever you see Daniel you give him a big smile and wave and then when your far enough you swear under you breath and think of various ways you'd like to watch him die. Things are good now. You've got your Speedom back!

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